Dear poorly paid online support rep for my wireless carrier:
If I tell you that I got my spiffy (yet hopelessly BROKEN) phone TODAY, what did you expect my answer would be when you said "have you had it less than 30 days?". Don't leave the door open like that. And when I reply "well, since I got it TODAY, I would assume that 1 day is less than 30 days, correct?", don't get snotty with me - I'm the customer, I get to be snotty, not you. And then when I tell you 7 TIMES that the keypad on the phone is totally non functional, don't ask me again what the problem is. And THEN, don't piss me off with your snottiness yet again, give me a phone number to call and then expect a good review on your survery. I believe that the term "useless waste of an online rep who I'm sure really doesn't speak English at all" was tossed in there.
Dear Non-English speaking poorly paid phone rep for my wireless carrier: Listen lady, When I tell you my secret answer, and i KNOW it's right because I'm looking at it on my account page online, DON'T TELL ME IT'S WRONG. Learn to speak English and then get back to me.
Dear English speaking, poorly paid phone rep for my wireless carrier: yeah, you probably got the notes about my last call with Miss Non-English speaker, and Mr I don't know that 1 is less than 30: Thank you for actually getting my return processed and my new phone out to me. If I could I would give you a raise. You have restored my faith in your company. Oh, and thanks for the refund for the entire cost of the phone. You ROCK.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
This is a repost of my 9/11/2006 post, with some new comments and thoughts.
I did not personally know anyone in the Towers, on the planes or in the Pentagon that lost their lives that day. However, I signed up to be part of the 2,996 bloggers to remember an individual who was lost on September 11, 2001. This is a rememberance of one of the lights that was snuffed out that day.
There are not enough words for me to begin to honor or remember. I hope that I can do a little justice to Marlyn's short life.
Marlyn C Garcia
Location: World Trade Center, Tower 1, 100th floor, Marsh and McLennan Cos, Inc
Miss Garcia was the valedictorian of her high school class at Bay Ridge Christian Academy. She was described as mature beyond her years. Smart. Sweet. Prom Queen. A young woman with character. Always smiling. Always nice to everyone. She turned down a scholarship to Syracuse University to remain close to her family, going instead to John Jay College, where, again, she touched so many lives with her kindness and smile. She was attending college as she worked at Marsh and McLennan. She would arrive an hour early each day so that she could leave to attend school in the afternoons. She wanted to work for the United Nations, travel, advocate for those who could not speak for themselves, to spread her light to others.
She had an entire lifetime ahead of her.
She had potential.
She was small. She was fearless. She was determined.
She loved her family. Her parents, her 2 sisters, her Uncle, to whom she wrote on Monday night, Sept 10 " I hope I get to see you Tuesday, I am going into work a little late because I want to vote" September 11 was New York City Mayoral Primary day.
She was a person that any young woman should look up to as an example of a caring and loving person. Someone to stive to be like. A loving Daughter, Sister, Neice, Cousin, Friend. A shining light. In every rememberance of Marlyn that I have read, everyone has described her as being one thing - an Angel. She was an Angel on earth to so many. She was, sadly, in Tower 1 when the plane hit. One of the 2,996 called Home that day. Called Home to be an Angel looking down on everyone she knew and cared about. To now spread her light from above.
9/11/2006 I cannot believe that it has been five years. The emotions and feelings I have are still as raw as they were that day. In my cedar chest in my bedroom, I have copies of the New York Daily News, dated September 12, 2001, and showing all of the horror in still photographs. I looked at them on the day I purchased them. I have not looked at them since. I cannot ever forget those pictures. They are burned in my memory. I keep the papers to remember. I don't know why. I can't forget. I will never forget. None of us should never forget, so that will not happen again.
9/11/2009 When I wrote these words 3 years ago I could not believe the pain could still be so fresh in my heart. A couple of weeks ago, I went into my cedar chest and I looked at those papers dated 9/12/2001. I cried, gut wrenching, all out sobbing crying. And I thought about Marlyn. And I prayed that the terror for her was short.
9/11/2010 It's now been 9 years since that horrific day. It seems a life time ago and yesterday, all at the same time. Life changed forever that day. Or did it? It seems that the more years pass, the less our collective conscious remembers - that it was hatred that took over that day. Hatred that is rearing its ugly head again - right here in our country. Among our own citizens. Intolerance. Hate. The attitude of I'm right and you're wrong and we cannot have dialog anymore. We are living in times that seem to be even more dangerous than they were 9 years ago. For the first time in my life, I'm scared for the future. It's only been 9 years and it seems we have not learned a damn thing. Did all of those people, did Marlyn, die in vain? God, I pray not. We need to dig deep inside and remember what we felt that awful day. We need to remember how, when we reached out our hands that day, there was someone there to hold them. Someone there to cry with, to grieve with. To heal with. We need to remember. We need to remember the innocence that was lost that day. We need to remember Marlyn and the 2995 others that were ripped away from us. We cannot let their lives be lost in vain and hatred.
On the night of 9/11/2001, we had a candelight walk in our neighborhood, led by the children. Then we all put our candles out on our porch to burn down during the night. When I light a candle tonight, as I did that night, and as I do every September 11, I will light it in Marlyn's memory.
Marlyn Garcia I will never forget you.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Congrats to the Rochester Public Market, winner by a landslide in the Favorite Large Farmers Market in America contest. The Rochester Public Market ROCKS. Last weekend I spent $30 and came home with:
1 large bunch baby asparagus
1 lb carrots
2 bunches celery
2 heads red romaine
2 heads red leaf lettuce
2 heads boston lettuce
1 large bunch beets
1 quart basket of chanterelle mushrooms (at $3 the splurge of the day)
1/2 bushel honey crisp apples
2 bunches bananas
2 bunches swiss chard
2 loaves whole wheat bread, hot from the bakery
In an effort to assist city residents with nutritional and financial challenges, the market is now accepting Food Stamp EBT cards - which has increased the foot traffic through the market (40,000 visitors on any given Saturday, 2.4 million visitors in 2009) and hopefully will give some of the young city residents a taste of locally grown delicious fruits and vegetables, as well as organic meats, and locally baked bread (really, where else can you go to get a loaf of freshly baked, hot, whole wheat bread, already sliced, for $1), and perhaps inspire them to learn to cook their own healthy meals and not become one of the projected 88% of obese Americans in the next 20 years.
There are so many people out there who think that you can only get fruits and vegetables at the grocery store. I have nothing against Walmart, I shop there for grocery staples all the time, but have you ever REALLY looked at the quality of their produce? Here in Western NY, in the middle of one of the largest apple producing areas in the world, Walmart ships apples to our stores from Washington State. Now, I have nothing against the apple farmers there, but, seriously? What the hell? Oh, and they're 5x more expensive than the apples I get at any farmers market in my area.
But, the best thing about the Rochester Public Market? Trying really hard not to laugh when someone who speaks Chinese/Spanish/English is trying to communicate with someone who speaks Redneck. (if you don't think that rednecks can live north of the Mason Dixon line, I DARE you to come here)